Finders Keepers Edie Baylis (phonics readers .TXT) 📖

Heath smiled at the overly made-up woman and tried to work out whether her long, thick eyelashes were real or whether they were the stick-on variety. ‘Hello there,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, I don’t know what I’m doing.’

Lena raised an eyebrow. ‘That I very much doubt.’

Heath’s face cracked into his award-winning smile. ‘I meant, I’m a new member. Platinum VIP?’

‘Ooh!’ Lena squealed excitedly, holding out her hand for Heath to shake. ‘I’m Lena Taylor, Head of Events and the Manager of the VIP suite. Did you receive an email with your membership details?’ She batted her eyelashes, then leant forward, making sure the man got a decent glimpse of her more than ample cleavage.

Feeling unable to draw his eyes away from the stunning blonde’s voluptuous bust, Heath reached into his inside pocket for his membership confirmation and handed it over.

Lena kept her long-nailed fingers in contact with the man’s just that little bit too long as she took the paperwork, then pulled a small box from under the desk. Flicking through, she retrieved his plastic card. ‘Here you are, Mr...’ She double-checked the card. ‘...Pointer. This is your membership card. Go through those double doors on your right and make sure to help yourself to canapes and a complimentary glass of champagne.’ She pulled her bright red lips into a smile. ‘We have a wonderful show on tonight.’

Heath grinned. ‘I’m very much looking forward to it. I think this will be the ideal place to hold future events. I’m a music producer.’

‘A music producer? How exciting,’ Lena gushed. Definitely lots of money and influence here.

‘I take it I won’t be lucky enough to see you as part of the show?’

Lena laughed, a high pitched tinkly sound, her long talons twiddling one of her long blonde extensions. ‘Not these days, although I used to be one of the star acts,’ she boasted. ‘But there’s many beautiful dancers here and I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.’

Heath slipped the membership card into his pocket. ‘I’m sure I won’t be. Not if they look half as good as you.’

Smiling ingratiatingly, Lena glanced around. ‘No guest accompanying you tonight, Sir?’

‘Please call me Heath,’ he said. ‘No, unfortunately my date couldn’t make it.’

‘Oh, what a shame. Well, have a good evening and I’ll pop over later to see how you’re settling in.’

‘Please do,’ Heath grinned. ‘I’m not a big fan of drinking champagne alone.’

Lena watched Heath strut through the double doors into the VIP suite. If all the new customers the Platinum membership scheme brought in were of that vein, she’d be more than happy. She’d make sure she dropped by his table later - she could do with a glass or three of champagne. Everyone knew it paid to mingle with the customers. This one was clearly of good stock, so once she let it be known that she was intricately connected with the club’s owner, she had the feeling he would be happy to recommend the club to his associates. Being in the music industry, he’d know plenty of famous pop stars and if she could entice him to make a booking tonight then that would be something else to rub in Gwen’s face.

BY THE TIME ROBERT HAD LEFT Footlights he’d been so shell-shocked by his discovery he’d barely been able to remember where he’d parked, let alone anything else.

There was absolutely zilch point approaching his mother about the gun. She hadn’t levelled with him about anything and certainly hadn’t mentioned she’d shot and killed her own daughter! Neither was she likely to.

He'd been so side-tracked, he almost hasn’t bothered checking Teagan’s phone, but now he was very glad that he had made the effort to look.

Well, sort of. Since returning the missed call and hearing this Joe character say that he thought Teagan may have been taken against her will and that he knew who it might be had caused jangling at the base of his spine.

Robert’s teeth clenched. The man’s words were bothering him more with every minute that passed. Why the fuck hadn’t the man just told him the rest? Why had he insisted on meeting up?

Pulling up outside the Plough and Harrow, Robert yanked on the handbrake and glanced around for anyone who might resemble how this person had described himself. He hoped he wasn’t walking into a set-up by some monged-out timewaster.

The bloke on the phone had sounded drunk and he could ill afford having time wasted by a pisshead. His only concern was finding Teagan and that was the singular reason he was giving this Joe person the time of day, but if the man spouted crap, then he’d be sorry.

One thing was for sure and that was his mother was definitely linked to something bad and he had the very real fear that Teagan had been dragged into it.

Robert clenched his fists and rolled his neck in a bid to release the heavily building tension. He’d slam this Joe whateverhisname’s teeth down his throat if it turned out he was pissing about, but through the drunkenness, the jittery and worried undertones were obvious during the short, garbed conversation they’d had.

Robert sparked up yet another cigarette and raked his fingers through his hair. Was this something to do with that smarmy bastard, Darren Harding? If it was anything to do with that shit-for-brains, then he’d...

A knocking on his window made Robert swing around in the driver’s seat and glare at the dishevelled creature peering through the glass. If this was one of those bloody junkies asking for money... He stabbed his finger on the electric window button, opening it a crack. ‘What?’

‘R-Robert?’ Joe stuttered. ‘I’m Joe.’

Robert stared for a moment longer, trying to deduce whether the man was telling the truth. He wasn’t anything like he’d expected, but then again, he didn’t know what he’d expected. Just not this. He jerked his head to the passenger side.